


the fu fighters

by doofusface



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Growing Up, Humor, Identity Reveal, OR IS IT, One Shot, Partnership, Romance, Secrets, So Much Friendship, This was supposed to be a drabble, but so much friendship you guys, dun dun DUNNN
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-15 13:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8057809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doofusface/pseuds/doofusface
Summary: “And that, children, is why we must begone with the identity secrets. Trust me, it's easier this way. You have no idea how helpful it is to know who your teammates are when you're stuck in the middle of a large crowd and someone decides to crowdsurf their pet goat.” In which Master Fu is cheeky, Marinette and Adrien are confused, the kwamis are coaches, and Alya and Nino are still spectacularly human. (Updated with extra scenes.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be a drabble
> 
> that's literally all you need to know about me

Adrien, being Adrien, had always figured that the inevitable identity reveal between Ladybug and Chat Noir would be a dramatic experience, possibly with a kiss at the end of it. Something grand and memorable, much like their partnership.

He did not, however, think it would include an old man who he had crossed paths briefly with a year before, nor did he foresee learning Ladybug’s name because of a technicality.

Master Fu kept his smile up. He looked more like Volpina with her secrets than… whatever the heck his old identity was. Turtle? His kwami certainly had a similar shell. “Mme. Dupain-Cheng, please, come back.”

Adrien stared at the spotted heroine who had tried to escape just moments prior. She’d frozen when Fu called her Marinette a second before, and now Adrien felt his throat dry as he finally realized how stupid and oblivious he had actually been.

Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Ladybug. The girl he loved to the stars and beyond.

The _same_ girl.

With, admittedly, the same hair. And eyes. And height. And personality. And Adrien was a _big, dumb dummy for not realizing this sooner, oh, boy_.

He waved awkwardly as Ladybug— _Marinette_ turned around. She nodded stiffly in response, and a memory flashed of the days when she couldn’t string any words together in front him when he was Adrien. He didn’t want to go back to that again. He loved having her as his friend, and—

Well. Loved. He loved her.

When did he fall in love with that side of her, too?

“Hi,” Marinette says shyly, now in her original spot, across from him. The fact that they’re pretty much aligned so it looks as if they’re a bride and groom and Fu is a minister is not lost on him. She’s still Ladybug, but he’s mentally removing the mask, and he’s tacking on the crease in her eyes when she smiles at him.

“Hi,” Adrien breathes, increasingly happy that he _knows_ now.

Before he starts panicking.

Because _she_ will know _._

And might be disappointed.

Even though, logically, he knew that couldn’t really be true—because they were friends, and they hung out a lot more, and they were still Ladybug and Chat Noir—

“ _Ahem_ ,” Fu clears his throat. He’s still smiling, but it’s teasing, and Adrien’s pretty sure he missed something. Fu raises a brow, looking over to Marinette—who’s only exposed skin looks almost as red as her suit—and back to him.

Adrien tilts his head in confusion.

“Chat Noir,” Fu starts, “do you want me to introduce you as well, or…?”

Adrien straightens immediately. “Oh!” He looks Marinette/Ladybug in the eye and holds her gaze with kindness and every ounce of gentleness he can manage. “On three?”

She nods, taking in a deep breath. “One.”

Adrien shrugs off his excess energy. He wants to hug her. “Two.”

“Three,” they say in unison, and the small room is filled with a mix of green and pink. Fu closes his eyes at the sudden brightness, but neither he nor his kwami move from their spot.

Before them, a grinning Adrien is gazing at a very unnerved-looking Marinette—who still has her eyes closed.

“Okay, so, I know the whole point is to _know_ , but give me a second?” she blurts out with increasing speed, biting her lip for comfort. “This is really the last way I thought I’d find out, y’know?”

Fu nods, though he knows she can’t see him. Adrien looks at him, then at Marinette, then at Plagg beside him, and finally at the red kwami opposite himself.

“Hi,” he says to it, and it smiles kindly.

“Hello, A—“

“ _Tikki_! One _sec_ ,” Marinette scolds, cutting her off. “Just. One more second.”

“Take all the time you need, Princess,” Adrien says automatically, and immediately feels a little giddy at saying the words outside of costume. He likes this lack of an identity barrier. He likes her. He likes her a _lot_.

Tikki, the red kwami in front of him, giggles. She flies to her charge, flying up to the latter’s face and cupping her cheeks. Adrien’s heart beats faster. “It’s been two. Don’t worry, Marinette. I think you’ll like him.”

He’s pretty sure he’s having a heart attack. She opens her eyes in the slowest way possible, and even then immediately raises her gaze to the ceiling, before he instinctively puts his hands on her shoulders. Her head lowers reluctantly.

“No way—“ she gasps, her eyes widening. “Not even with _my_ luck—“

“Hey, Mari,” he whispers with a soft smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Then she surprises him by pushing him a foot backwards. 

“You _knew_!”

Adrien’s heart doesn't stop thumping at the contact, and at the fact that his lady is extremely mad at him. He raises a brow in absolute confusion. “Uh?”

“With Volpina,” Marinette clarifies with more calm in her voice. “ _That's_ how—I almost gave up my miraculous for you!”

Something clicks in Adrien’s brain, and he has the audacity to smile goofily. She doesn't hate him. She's not disappointed.

She almost gave up her miraculous for him.

As with most things, Marinette appeared to be realizing the gravity of her words at about the same pace as he did, causing her to redden once more and make an attempt to speak…

…which was promptly cut off by Fu’s words. “And that, children, is why we must begone with the identity secrets. Trust me, it's easier this way. You have no idea how helpful it is to know who your teammates are when you're stuck in the middle of a large crowd and someone decides to crowdsurf their pet goat.”

“Uh?” the teens said in unison, turning to the old man.

He waved his hand. “It was an odd time.”

Plagg, who was surprisingly silent throughout the whole exchange, moves up to Tikki, and studies Marinette's face. He nods approvingly, turning to his chosen. “Always liked her. She makes you flustered.”

“She doesn't!” Adrien argued, visibly flustered. “Just—I like her work!”

(Marinette's most definitely not going red again at hearing this.)

“Well—“ Fu says, cutting off any further chatter from the four. “—now we can get down to business.” He turns to Tikki and Plagg, who had taken to exchanging knowing looks amongst themselves. “Hello, old friends!”

“Wayzz, Fu,” Plagg says with surprising formality. “Still have that stash of camembert?”

“You know the way,” the old man replies with a nod. Plagg grins mischievously, flying off to the next room.

Tikki smiles up at him. “Hello, Fu!”

“Tikki,” he says with a solemn bow. “You look well.”

“And you. Wayzz is keeping you healthy.”

“Master is naturally that way, Tikki. Though he needs to be reminded now and again of his real age,” the green kwami replies kindly, with a smooth, calming voice. Adrien feels himself relax immediately, soothed by the kwami.

“I would like to talk with Ladybug and Chat Noir alone, _mes amis_. If you'd let us?” Fu asks cheerily, and both green and red nod and fly off to follow Plagg. Fu smiles gently, turning back to the heroes. “You've had a long day.”

Marinette nods. Adrien’s surprised she hasn't demanded answers yet. He nods, too.

Fu sits on the floor, patting the ground before him. “Sit—I'm sure you have a lot of questions.”

Adrien sits automatically. He wonders when he'd gotten so comfortable in a strangers home. He looks up at Marinette, who's doing her adorable thinking face—eyebrows knitted and lips tight; it's missing her signature “tongue-sticking-out” bit, but it's very Marinette, and very Ladybug.

She sits.

Adrien has ¾ of a mind to study her some more, but Fu is looking at both of them with a glint in his eye, and he's scared the old man _knows_ , so he sits quietly, channeling the Adrien the media sees and loves.

From the corner of his sights, he notices Marinette steal a curious glance at him before steadying her gaze at Fu.

Fu laughs. It's an impossible mix of airy and booming, and Adrien’s pretty sure it's been used relentlessly for the entirety of the man’s life, judging by the creases by his eyes. He finds himself grinning when Marinette starts giggling, and then guffawing himself a second later. They calm down together, and something heavy is lifted in the atmosphere, and Adrien feels like he can breathe again.

It's odd, feeling the rush of air into his lungs after giving them such a workout, but it puts him at enough ease to turn to Marinette and wink.

**

Adrien winks at her and she fights the blush creeping up, because it's bad enough that she'd been trying to fight a crush on Chat while falling headfirst in love with Adrien. Finding out that they're the same person is _ruining_ her.

“So, um,” she stammers out, turning back to Fu. She vaguely registers Adrien’s shoulders slump the slightest bit. “We know each other?”

Fu smiles wider, if that's possible. “Yes. You two met quite well, in fact.”

Adrien crashes to the ground beside her, and she raises a brow at him. “I thought cats always land on their feet?”

“I'm not really a cat right now, my Lady,” he replies back smoothly, with the faintest hint of Damaged Pride™. He turns to Fu, propping himself up by his elbows. “You saw—er, that?”

“I heard it, too.” The teens redden, but Fu continues. “I think that will be what we work on first: how to _whisper_ , and if that fails—code words.”

“Wait—we're training with you?” Marinette asks in surprise. She feels a little hurt that she's only being giving a manual on how to do things now, so far from her starting days. “Why _now_?”

Fu puts a hand on her shoulder. “You must know—you must realize it. The journey you've made—both of you—to get to this point has been necessary.” He pulls back and straightens his back. “You've both grown leaps and bounds.”

“…Was that a pun?” she asks immediately.

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Adrien giggles beside her, but she ignores it, and tries to tell her stomach to stop flipping out. “Well. Yeah, I guess, but…”

“Wouldn't it have been easier if we _started_ with training?” Adrien continued seamlessly. Marinette forgot he was also Chat for a second, having been used to Adrien’s unparalleled politeness. Remembering made her calm down a bit.

Fu shrugs. “It could go either way. Besides, training with me requires openness—honesty. A lack of an identity barrier. But Ladybug was not ready for that, and one should know better than to rush the champion of Luck.”

“So you let us flounder around to figure it out ourselves?” Marinette asked.

“Kind of your fault, Mari,” Adrien says casually, still lounging on the floor. “Told you we should've known each others’ identities right away.”

“Hush, _mon minou_ ,” she spits back, before attempting to correct herself. “ _Le_ — _le minou_.”

It's too late. Adrien rolls to the side, propping his pretty head on one arm and grinning like his alter-ego. Marinette thinks he looks hilarious. “Fear not, Mlle.! I'm a one-Bug Chat _.”_

Marinette also thinks he needs to shut up. “A-Anyway. Training.” She turns to Fu, whose smile has yet to drop. She's pretty sure he'd make a good retail salesman with that kind of skill. “When do we start?”

Fu creases his face with more laughter, surprising the two. It's teasing this time, and they can't help but feel like they're not in on a very important joke. “Well, now! I thought you noticed—it's already begun!”

**

“What's up with you and Adrien?” Alya asks halfway to class, and she knows it's her fault for dropping her “oh, I'm Marinette, and I'm hopelessly in love with Adrien Agreste” act.

(Which, to be fair, is still true, but it's been a good week and a half since they started training with Fu, and they're mostly acting like Ladybug and Chat Noir. Except civilians. And Adrien only makes puns around her. And she may have willingly made physical contact in the form of a nudge to him.

It was a weird time.)

“Nothing,” she replies lightly, hearing Wayzz’s tips in her head. _Half-truths are easier than a full lie. Your friends may not appreciate it now, but it_ is _better that the chosen are not publicly known_.

“We've just been hanging out a lot since Uncle came to town.” _And since I almost gave up my miraculous for a holographic version of him, since he was actually beside me as Chat Noir. Surprise!_ Marinette shrugged again.

“ _Girl_ ,” Alya breathed, eyes widening. “Are you…?”

“No, Alya,” she frowns. She doesn't have to act disappointed. “But we're good friends.” Best friends. “And it's? A step? I guess?”

Alya squeals and pats her repeatedly on the arm. She tries to smile.

(Note: Marinette is not entirely sure if she's ready to be rejected by her partner and best friend. Marinette does not want to think about this right now.

But Marinette needs to keep her _other_ best friend off her trail, so she is begrudgingly thinking starting to daydream about the the kids and hamster—and cat, probably—that they'll have when they're older.

Or might have.

Or might not.

 _Ugh_.)

“It's really not a big deal,” she says, trying to brush off the reporter. “Just croissants at the baker—“

Alya's eyes go wide. “You've been hanging out at _home_?!”

Ah, darn.

**

Adrien's watching them from his locker, and doesn't immediately look away when Marinette's eyes find his and beg for help. He smiles teasingly and raises his hands in a _I'm-not-dealing-with-reporter!Alya-so-good-luck-yes-that-was-a-pun_ gesture.

“Wow, you two have been flirting a _lot_.”

Adrien choked on air, turning to find Nino’s smug face behind him. “That wasn't—we aren't—“

“Uh-huh,” Nino nods, in false affirmation. “And Chloé likes playing in mud. Sure, bro.”

“We've been hanging out,” Adrien concedes, following Wayzz’s tips. “After school, weekends.”

“Oh, man,” Nino gasps. “You've got it _bad_.”

“You did, too!” Adrien counters.

Nino waves a hand. “Infatuation wears off. You're in _love_.”

“Oh, and you're _not_?” the blond replies. He immediately regrets it. Nino’s eyebrows shoot up so high Adrien thinks they get lost under his cap.

“My dude,” the DJ says gravely, poking a finger onto his friend’s chest. “Do _not_ mess this up.”

If Adrien thinks Nino knows something vital, he doesn't ask.

**

They train together almost every day—Fu teaches them some wild techniques that they never would've dreamed up themselves, and Wayzz, Tikki, and Plagg critique their stances.

They train without their powers. Marinette’s more of a MacGyver with her weaponry, which is to be expected, but she doesn't have much in the way of hand-to-hand combat without a boost from Tikki. Adrien's the opposite—mostly technique and power without the creativity. He needs Marinette to call out an object for him to enter her train of thought, but once he's there there's no stopping the two of them.

Fu trains them separately on the days when Marinette has a contest deadline or Adrien has a shoot. Those are the days they dread the most, because their flaws are so evident, so loud, so conniving. Fu and Wayzz always cheer them on; they're tough but kind, and over time the two start to think Fu’s wrinkles are not all made from happy memories.

They learn to observe. There's nothing quite like a narrow escape from an akuma—or worse, _Alya_ —to set them on an odd adrenaline high. There's too much to process and not enough time, but their excuses are getting better and so are their story consistencies. They know Alya’s going to find out soon, because she's better at investigating than they will _ever_ be at lying.

Adrien visits the bakery more; the Dupain-Chengs teach him how to bake cookies, and he's pretty sure Nathalie will kill him for gorging on so much sugary goodness in one go. He trades puns with Tom, and sometimes they tag team to to beat Marinette at _Mecha Strike III_ (it never works, but it's the closest he has to a father-son bond, so he doesn't let go). One day Sabine thanks him for making Marinette smile and be more confident. He doesn't know how to respond, so he just hugs her.

Marinette shows him her sketchbook. He gives her critiques and she shoves at him playfully and calls him _chaton_ and _minou._ One day she lets him into her room without taking down his pictures. He stares in awe and confusion, but she keeps everything so casual that he thinks it might be a prank, so he doesn't comment. Tikki pats her head that night, proud at her partner’s bravery. Marinette flops oto her bed and hopes he catches on, because at this point she just wants him to _know_. After all, “What's the point in loving someone if you can't show it?”

Fu tells them they might need teammates—there's beem more akuma as of late, and there could be multiple ones in one day if the pattern continues. Adrien names Nino; Marinette names Alya. Fu agrees.

Alya sucks at the flute—the first day on duty has her scrambling to figure out the “stupid instrument” with its “stupid, unnecessarily complex” notes system. Marinette finds herself being Alya's mom for once, and it's refreshing in a weird way.

Fu surprises everyone when he passes on Wayzz to Nino. It's incredibly heartwarming, but it's also funny, because now Adrien has an excuse to call him a slow poke regularly.

Marinette still steals glances at the blond boy with a big heart. Adrien still steals smiles from the black-haired girl with an unmatchable brain. Alya and Nino still hate them for “not dating already”.

A month after Nino and Alya join, Fu gives them an exam.

Marinette squints at him. “You want us—“

Adrien gawks. “—to find each other—“

“—in a _random spot_ in Paris—“

“—that's _not_ either of our homes _or_ the school _or_ a tourist attraction—“ she lists off her fingers.

“—in under _one hour_?!” Adrien finishes with a flourish, staring at the master himself.

Fu nods. It's simple, it's polite, and it is insufferably _aggravating_. “Oh, and without your kwami.”

“ _WHAT_?!” they yell in unison.

“How are we supposed to cover the city while playing hide-and-seek in under an hour without their help?” Adrien asks, flabbergasted. They'd passed every single one of Fu’s previous tests, but this was ridiculous.

“And what if there's an akuma attack?” Marinette asks, concern evident in her voice. “That's—it wouldn't be fair to the people of Paris if we don't show up because we _left our kwami_.”

Adrien wants to add something more, but Fu holds up a hand. “Your friends are ready.”

The model jerks a thumb behind him. “Alya summoned a crocodile when she was going for a puppy. This morning.”

Marinette raises her hand. “And Nino still thinks it's a good idea to play frisbee with the fans using his 30-ton shield.”

The ex-chosen shrugs. “They always learn better with experience. Look at the two of you!”

The teens smile, abashed. Marinette offers up a lazy fist bump, and Adrien complies before looking up in worry. “But what if there's more than one akuma?”

“A word of advice: it's nice to have a little faith in your people every now and then. You must trust them as much as they trust you.” Fu’s eyes do that glinting thing again, and he seems so much more than just an old man. Almost ageless. Almost _immortal_.

Adrien shrinks, and Marinette slips her hand into his. It's a nice gesture. It's friendly. High-key platonic.

…When did they start doing that? Was it before or after he started bringing her hot chocolate in the morning? Or when she stuck doodles with encouraging little notes into his bag whenever he had to leave early for a shoot?

When she kissed him on the cheek after an akuma fight? When he jokingly told her he loved her more than the sun (except it was only a joke to her, and Alya had to console/lecture him afterwards about laughing when declaring his love at the same time)?

Fu cleared his throat. “Tikki and Plagg will bring you to the starting point. Alya and Nino will go with each of you, and will escort your kwamis back to me afterwards. Good luck, and don't cheat.”

**

It's a weird game. Marinette thinks like she's Adrien, and somewhere in Paris Adrien is doing what he assumes Marinette would do.

She goes into a bookstore. He checks in a boutique. She runs to a back alley when she heads the meowing of stray cats. He checks the hidden gardens and the graffitied pathways. She turns left. He turns right.

There's no threat of an akuma, but there _is_ some weird force driving them to succeed. Something they need to prove to themselves more than to Fu. An answer they've been waiting to hear.

Marinette checks her phone; as per the rules, they're only to use them to check the time. They've only been at it for thirty minutes, but she feels like she's bern running for months. There's something about being separated from your partner after being attached at the hip for the better part of six months—it's draining and relentless, and you are constantly reminded of what you've lost, and it makes you want to _find_ them. It makes you _promise_ to find them. Because what are they if not each other? What good is yin without yang?

It clicks.

Marinette thinks of it first—she finds the building  they've been using as a vantage point in the next minute. Its surroundings are empty of people. There's a small fountain in front—half of it is dirty and cracking save for a beautiful section of sculpted marble, the other half pristine except for a few flecks and a large crevice on the rim. It's them.

Adrien arrived literally a second after, and he slows his sprint with an airy laugh. “Fancy— _hah_ —seeing you here.”

“It's us,” she says before taking a large breath herself. She's winded. She doesn't care.

“You are way prettier than a marble fountain,” he breathes, grinning like a cat. “But that water looks very tempting.”

“That's gross, Adrien. Pigeons bathe in that.”

“Would your want your chat in shining armor to die of dehydration?”

She grins cheekily. “You could spare one of your lives.”

“Meowch.”

She frowns disapprovingly at his pun, but moves forward anyway. “Hey, come here.”

He raises a brow, and follows her to sit on the fountain rim. He sits on flecks and broken things, and she on strong marble, but they both manage to reflect the sun. She takes his hand.

“Thank you, Adrien,” she says it softly. A secret.

“For what?” he asks in the same tone. He's subconsciously moving closer, and so is she. Definitely subconsciously. Yup.

She tilts her head up, and her eyes begin to close. “For—“

“ _AKUMA_!” someone yells from a block away, though anyone from within a five-mile radius would've heard the high-pitched screech the akuma was making.

Wait.

Marinette scrunched up her face, automatically pulling away from Adrien, who was not pouting. “Is that _Alya_?”

Adrien winced as another note filled the air. “Yup.”

“We should—“ She motions to the general direction of the fighting.

“Yup,” he replies, already standing up. He offers her a hand and she takes it. He takes a deep breath. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” she replies with a wink, and it takes him a second to reboot his brain for it to function.

She's already running down a side street when he finally catches up.

“For finding me!” she yells to him.

Adrien scrunches up his face. “What?”

Marinette turns, running backwards and grinning. “The thank you! It was for finding me!”

She turns back around and sprints headfirst into danger.

He laughs, charging into the fray.

It's full and airy at the same time, and they both understand a little bit more.

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Deleted Scenes 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i just realized some people are on here and probably won't check the drabble thing sooo im going to add these here too? :0

“Break,” Marinette breathes, lying sprawled, back on Adrien’s who huffed on the floor. He didn’t care much anymore, giving in and lying face-down on the mat. Marinette closes her eyes slowly; even her eyelids are tired. “Please. Break.”

Fu grins. “Break it is. Come, Wayzz, help me with the tea, old friend.”

Wayzz simply nods and flies beside the old man. Marinette envies him. She just wants to hover to her room. Was that too much to ask?

“You're killing my chosen,” Plagg deadpans, flying near her face.

“Tell him to stop sucking at defense, then,” Marinette counters, still lying on the model. She feels more sweat than human at this point, but it's only been an hour.

…Then again, they never were much for fighting outside of their costumes, so maybe this should've been expected.

Adrien says something under her, but it's muffled by the mat.

“What?”

“I have excellent defense,” he repeats, turning his head just so. “Ask my fencing instructor.”

Marinette doesn't bother looking at him. “Fire him.”

He juts out his hip and makes her roll to the floor. “Rude.”

“I guarantee you'll be bruised tomorrow,” she says, face enjoying the coolness of the mat. Ground is soft. Ground is comfy. Stay on ground forever. “Fencing isn't the same as superhero fighting, Adrien.”

Something sticks to her whenever she says his real name out loud—it's a secret. Their secret.

She shakes it off. Mentally, that is, because she can't feel 90% of her body anymore, and it's already been a week of this training, and she was so tired, and if she could just reach her bag with the snacks—

“You know you don't have telekinesis, right?” Adrien asks, still flopped on the floor. When Marinette ignores him to continue staring at her bag, he looks up at Tikki. “She knows she doesn't have telekinesis, right?”

Tikki nods, but her smile is unsure. They watch in silence as Marinette grits her teeth in a display of concentration, only to hear a distressed yelp come out of her mouth.

“Marinette! Are you okay?” Tikki asks, flying closer. Plagg snickers in the background.

The girl in question rolls onto her back, dead-tired and hands up to her face. “M’fine. Bih muh tuhngue.”

Adrien's head is by her feet now, and it speaks weakly. “Want me to kiss it better?”

Marinette snorts. “Yuh, whuh noht?”

“Tough,” he replies, dead on the floor. “You insulted my defense.”

“Aw, chaton, I thought you loved me.”

Adrien thinks maybe Tikki’s luck is rubbing off on him, because he's so glad she's too far to see his red face. (Then again, she may just assume it was exertion.)

He laughs awkwardly. It makes his insides hurt, and he knows she's right—he's going to have bruises, and he's going to have to hide them. “’Love is kind’—where in that can you insult my fighting?”

“Fiiine,” Marinette whines. “Your defense is not terrible.”

“Thank you.”

“…But you need to work on your blocks.”

Adrien hopes she can see his glare.

“That's a critique, minou, it's different,” Marinette laughs. She knows he's glaring at the ceiling, but it's meant for her. “Are you going to kiss it better or what? This is a one-time offer, Adrien.”

(It really isn't, but he doesn't need to know that.)

Adrien tenses beside her and she mentally tallies another mark for herself. It's 12-8 and the day's barely begun. She snickers as he fidgets ever so slightly, and stalls to come up with an answer.

He props up. “I—“

“Tea’s ready,” Fu calls, walking into the room with a tray loaded with cups and snacks for the teens, himself, and the kwami. “Up, up!”

There's a collective groan in the room, though Fu and Wayzz assume it's from having to move at all. Tikki and Plagg share a look, and their chosen sip quietly.

There's always tomorrow.


	3. Deleted Scenes 2

“She _likes_ you and you like _her_.”

Alya’s been repeating this about five times now, and Adrien’s been nodding the same amount or moreso, which is making him a little dizzy.

Then again, anything involving a certain fashion designer tended to make him dizzy, so it wasn't anything new.

“Adrien, you have to _tell her_ ,” Alya says suddenly, as if it's the first time she's considered it.

Adrien almost nods again, but he stops abruptly and proceeds to shake his head vigorously. “Nooo, no-no, Alya, that's—haha, that is a _bad_ idea.”

She glares at him. He's not sure if there's extra magic on Alya’s side because even her glasses join in on the glaring, and Adrien's mentally kicking himself for forgetting to bring his shades. Alya _hmph_ s, then grabs his arm and drags him to the street behind the school. “You are the _worst_ , you know that?”

The model keeps steady, projecting his photogenic self to keep himself in check. The mere idea of confessing destroys him, because now there's no mask to hide behind if he messes up. “How so?”

Alya puts her hands on her hips. “C'mon kitkat, haven't you been _listening_ to me?”

“Um, yeah?”

She huffs.

“Alya,” he starts solemnly, “it's a bad idea.”

“Hey Plagg, are all your cats deaf, or just this one?” Alya hisses, loud enough for the kwami to hear, but soft enough for Marinette, who just exited the _collège_ , to not hear them. She tugs Adrien farther into the street as Plagg flies out of his pocket.

“Hrmm… he's one of the worst cases, I'd have to say,” Plagg comments, rubbing his chin. “Hard not to hear when you repeat it that many times. I'm actually surprised.”

“Thank you,” Alya says, extracting a chunk of camembert from her bag and tossing it to the cat god.

(They’d taken to packing food for all their kwamis, just in case someone forgot or ran out mid-fight. It was a good practice, and Fu had given them a day off for figuring that out all on their own.)

Adrien gags as Plagg happily devours the cheese. “Still smells detestable, but Alya, seriously—“

The reporter grabs him by the shoulders and shakes him. Aggressively. “You LIKE her!”

“I thought that was establ—“

“AND.” Shake. “SHE.” Shake. “LIKES.” Shake, shake, shake. “ _YOU_!”

She lets him go and Adrien's eyes widen comically. His mouth forms an ‘o’, and Alya is seriously considering forcing him and Nino to spend time away from each other, because they're both oblivious and hanging out nearly every day has only worsened that.

 _Nah. That’d be too harsh. They'd cry for_ days, she thinks.

“Alya—“

“Yes, marshmallow?”

“I'm going to tell her.”

Alya nods in approval, and pats his shoulder. “Good man, Agreste. Good man.”

(He does not tell her—he chickens out when he sees her, and Alya has half a mind to strangle him.)

(She doesn't, on account of that would suck for Marinette and like, Paris, and possibly the world, if Chat Noir ceased to exist.)

(She does, however, schedule enough dates with Nino to force Adrien to either sort-of double date with Marinette or be devoid of not-training-or-school-related interaction with his best male friend.)

( _Sucker_.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> derp i love this story too much

**Author's Note:**

> im going to continue this in misc drabbles in my drabble collection(s) so don'ttttt worry about it
> 
> but also lel i love the idea of alya sucking at the flute if she ever becomes volpina
> 
> special thanks to harmonicacave for the quick beta, you're da bestest <3
> 
> comment with critiques plsss i die


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